Download the original attachment
This was overheard by me: standing in line the other day waiting to pay for my lunch. I was fortunate enough to be hearing this and later on my fortunes got better when I had a chance re-encounter with the lady I had overheard originally.

Here is the original conversation I had overheard:

MAN: So I was going to shave my head this weekend.

WOMAN: What?

MAN: You know, cut it short.

WOMAN: Oh, I see.

MAN: It’s great. you step out of the shower and dry off you hair, it takes about two seconds.

WOMAN: Really?

MAN: Yeah. it’s great.

WOMAN: I wish I could do that.

MAN: Why don’t you ask Bill about it?

WOMAN: Why would I ask Bill?

MAN: Maybe he’d let you cut it short.

WOMAN: I think it’s too risky.

MAN: (thinks about it) Yeah, maybe you’re right. That would be a bit of a shock to the boys in the office.

WOMAN: It’d stop them staring at my butt though.

MAN: Do they do that?

WOMAN: Yes, they have been known to. Maybe I will ask Bill after all!

MAN: You should.you really should.

At this point, I had to pay for my lunch and move along so they could.but as you can imagine, my curiosity was piqued!

After a few days I started to forget the conversation and then one day I returned to the shop to get lunch and I happened upon this same woman, sitting and eating by herself. She was now wearing a super-short crew cut! I couldn’t stop staring at her.she looked gorgeous!

Bravely I went over after paying and I introduced myself to her. I told her how I had accidentally overheard her conversation the prior week. I asked her if `Bill’ had approved her haircut.

She shrugged. “I don’t know if he expected me to do it this short.” Here she rubbed her hand through her short bristle. “I expect when I told him significantly shorter he didn’t expect it to be this significant.” She laughed and I smiled. She had a great smile and a great laugh.

“Could I interview you. you know about your decision?”

She looked at me oddly but she gave her consent. “OK,” she said with a smile. “You like girls with short boy’s haircuts, do you?”

I swallowed and I think I turned about as red as a beet. “Yes, I do. I think it brings out a girl’s inner beauty.”

Now it was her turn to blush. “Thanks,” she finally said after a pause and looking quite shy. “I.I. I guess that’s pretty flattering.”

“You do look quite stunning,” I replied immediately, careful with my choice of words and careful not to think I was trying to stalk her.

“Do you want to meet me tonight across the street for drinks? I will tell you what you want.”

I was so surprised that she was inviting me to go out with her I started for a moment, feeling awkward. “Yes,” I said, feeling my mouth and throat go dry. “Yeah, I would like that.”

“Seven o’clock?”

I still couldn’t quite believe it. I nodded dumbly. Finally I managed to croak out “Seven is great!”

She smiled and nodded, her tender blond bristle catching my eyes. “Be ready with your notebook,” she said and I nodded mutely. We made our goodbyes and I made my way back to my office. I couldn’t begin to believe my luck!

I got myself a fresh notebook and tried to psyche myself up for the meeting. I wondered if her nerves and stomach was a ball of knots like mine were. I could barely eat; I was so pent up about this. I had a `date’ with a beautiful blond woman who a week before had long silken strands, now she was wearing a crew cut almost as short as mine! How daring!

Finally, and it seemed like an eternity to me, it got to nearly seven and I went to the bathroom to freshen up and put on an additional splash of cologne. I grabbed my notebook and a couple of fresh pens and made my way over to the bar across the street.

She was waiting there, dressed in a light pink blouse and dark blue vest, dark blue pleated skirt and black stockings. There was an empty stool next to her. It seemed like she was waiting for me, despite that I was a couple of minutes early.

She smiled at me as I came over and gently said Hello. “Here, sit down,” she offered and patted the stool next to her. I gratefully slid onto the crimson leather of the stool. The bartender came over. She ordered an additional vodka and tonic; I ordered a gin and tonic. I pulled out my notebook.

“I hope you don’t mind I came prepared,” I said with a smile.

She grinned and nodded. “I guessed you would. Still, need this be all about interviewing me?”

I felt flattered. “Not at all. But I’d like to write a little story about you. I like to write fiction, but your story is so fascinating, I can bet that I’ll turn to a little true-life story for a change.”

She smiled again and we stared into each other’s eyes. She had the nicest pale bluish-gray eyes I had ever seen. I told her how I loved the color of her eyes and she had a great smile.

“Thanks,” she said with a sheepish grin.

“You know, I’m rather surprised a beautiful girl like you risked everything to cut your hair that short!”

“Don’t you like it?” she asked after a slight pause.

“Oh, I love it!” She seemed to relax at this. I smiled. “That’s why I want to know more about you and why you did it.”

She sighed and took a sip of her vodka. “OK,” she enthused. “Let’s get the interview done with, so we can discuss other things.”

I laughed and pulled out my notebook and pens. As I prepared to start writing, she laid her hand gently upon the back of my hand, a gesture not too defining. I looked into those dreamy eyes again and she smiled. “You will let me read what you’re going to write, won’t you?”

Everything was leading to more times with this charming lady and I could not decline that. “Absolutely you will,” I said without even a pause. “In fact, I’d be delighted to hear what you think about the story when it’s done!”

“Good,” she said with a sly grin. “Guess that means we’ll see one another again.”

I felt a little uneasy. I didn’t know if she had a boyfriend or what. I slowly smiled and nodded. “Yes, yes, we will.” I could work her significant other’s reaction into my interview.when the time was right. She nodded and we `began’ the interview.

ME: So, just to start can you give me your name?

WOMAN: Sure – Rachel Elizabeth C————.

ME: Rachel..terrific name. Great! What a nice haircut you have too.

RACHEL: Thanks.

ME: So, would you care to tell me how you came to get it?

RACHEL: It’s not that great a story, I can assure you. Nothing worth getting interviewed over!

ME: I can sense you’re a little nervous. Just relax and let me know what happened.

RACHEL: Are you sure?

ME: (nodding) Positive!

RACHEL: Well.OK. Here goes my `story’, I guess.

(We ordered another round of drinks at this point so we wouldn’t have to wait or interrupt the dialog as she was talking).

RACHEL: OK, here it is. You know that about a week ago I was talking to client and he was saying how he wanted to shave his head. He said it was great to get out of the shower and dry off his hair in about five seconds?

(I nodded here to acknowledge I did remember this conversation. How could I forget.it’s what started it all!)

RACHEL: How could that not appeal to me? I mean, I was fighting a double-edged sword. Guys in the office staring at my butt as I walked by and having to fuss over my hair for almost an hour every morning? I mean, I had to blow dry it and brush it and then pull it back into a ponytail when it’s as hot as it is now. I can’t stand the hair flopping onto my neck. It makes me so hot!

(Here she paused to take a sip and not, wanting to interrupt her, I just briefly nodded and took a sip of my drink
as well.)

RACHEL: So, after that conversation I went back and later that afternoon I decided to talk to Bill, my manager. I told him how I wanted to get my hair cut significantly shorter.

ME: Did he enquire as to why?

RACHEL: He didn’t at first. he was preoccupied. But when I stood there he finally let it sink in. “OK” was all he told me.

ME: Did he ask you how short you were going to cut it?

RACHEL: (nods) He did – after a moment.

ME: And what was your reply.?

RACHEL: (slight pause to consider this) I think I told them as short as a boy’s. He looked at me a bit curiously and asked me why. I told him it was because it was such a hot summer and I wanted to be cool when I wasn’t in the office.

ME: Good answer.

RACHEL: (smiles) Thanks. You see, I figured that the less details I gave him, the better off I’d be. I mean, not that he could fire over me over a haircut.at least I don’t think he can. I decided that enough was enough. I was so tired of those creepy guys staring at my butt!

ME: What made you think that they wouldn’t stare at your butt if you got a haircut?

RACHEL: Look at me? I mean, is the first thing that attracts your attention my butt?

ME: No. No, I guess you have a good point there.

RACHEL: Right! I mean, I was sporting a crew cut, so what was some guy going to do? Look at my ass or look at my easily more visible shaved head?

ME: I never thought of that before. Good logic.

RACHEL: So I get up on Saturday morning and go down, bright and early to the salon where I normally get my hair done. My stylist has an early appointment but I ask her if she’ll shave my head. She looks at me like I’m a maniac or something. She told me `no way! I wouldn’t do that to you!’

ME: Bit deflating to hear that, isn’t it?

RACHEL (nods vigorously) You bet it is! I was so bummed out. Then as I was walking away the receptionist, who’s got short spiky hair and a pierced nose, says to me `Oh, I know a place you can go, Rachel, if you’re serious.’ I nod that I am and she tells me this other salon that just opened on the other side of the freeway from me. I agree to give it a try before I just go to a beauty shop, by myself a pair of clippers and shave myself away.

ME: Is that what you did?

RACHEL: No, let me continue.

ME: OK. I’m sorry.

RACHEL: That’s OK. I forgive you. Anyway I drive over to this new salon and I pull up in front. They just opened a few minutes before I got there. I see a girl with long, squiggly hair that’s almost black. She’s wearing a plunging tight black blouse that shows off her cleavage more than I’d be willing to do and some black jeans. She comes over and says something like `do you have an appointment?”

ME: You’re not feeling like this is going to work out either, are you?

RACHEL: I admit, I felt uneasy. I told her no I didn’t. She just smiled. `Walk-ins are welcome; when we’re free we cut their hair. I just happen to be free. I’m Amanda.’ I introduced myself and stood up. `First let me ask you,’ I think I asked her, `could you shave my head.’ She looked a little odd. `You mean shaved smooth?’

ME: You’re not thinking that short, right?

RACHEL: Gosh no! I think I was over-brave, or perhaps over-stupid to get my hair cut as short as it is now! Anyway, I tell her more like a short bristling haircut. How do I know what to call it? She smiles at me and says `Oh, you want a crew cut?’ `Is that what I should call it when it’s all over very short?’ `Yes,’ she says to me. `That’s what you should call it. Is that what you want?’ I could start to feel my stomach turn to butterflies and my.well, my you-know-what turned to warm wetness. (Here she blushed and paused, having to take a sip of her vodka. I smiled and nodded, indicating I knew what she was talking about and that she shouldn’t feel uneasy discussing her feelings in front of me.)

ME: And. so what happened next?

RACHEL: I got so nervous as I sat in that leather chair, her putting a vinyl cape around my shoulders.

ME: Did she wash your hair first?

RACHEL: Oh, gosh! I skipped over that! Yes, she led me to a basin and proceeded to wash my hair. I love when other people wash my hair. There’s something highly erotic about it.

ME: So, it sounds as if that put you a little more at ease?

RACHEL: That did wonders for my psyche! I felt almost an urge to kiss Amanda right then and there as she lathered my hair up and massaged my scalp. And how she was going to liberate me from those long blond strands!

ME: I bet that was a great feeling.

RACHEL: Yes, it was. Then she quickly dries my hair with a towel and I stand up. That was the first time I noticed a tattoo over her left breast. It was of a daisy or something. I asked her about getting a tattoo.

ME: Something you dreamed about?

RACHEL: Not really.not dreaming in the sense I think you mean. I wondered what it was like to get one – especially over such a sensitive area. Our breasts are a bit more sensitive when we’re aroused.

ME: (with a sly grin) Are yours a bit more sensitive now?

RACHEL: (looks slyly) I’m not telling you that.

ME: (laughing) Agreed. We’ll keep that part a secret. So by now Amanda is leading you to a leather chair?

RACHEL: Yes! We talked for a moment or three about getting a tattoo – what it was like and all that. I had considered getting one, but never was really brave enough or smart enough to figure out where and when. Having a tattoo on my breast would be something I hadn’t considered.

ME: Where else had you considered a tattoo?

RACHEL: (blushes) Actually, it was going to be on my left butt cheek.

ME: Very interesting. And what did you decide you were going to do there?

RACHEL: (looks a little uneasy) I was undecided between a butterfly with rainbow colored wings or my boyfriend, at the time, his name with a red heart over it. As it turns out I’m glad I decided not to.

ME: I take it you and that boyfriend are, shall we say, history?

RACHEL: Yeah, we are. We split up over 18 months ago and I still to this day, wait for a guy to replenish my soul like he did. I cannot tell a lie; I am not a virgin and he was my first sexual encounter.

ME: So, why no butterfly?

RACHEL: I got too busy at work and I couldn’t get the time off. I got less inclined after we broke up to do something sexy like that. I always wore G-strings around him, he had a thing for watching me parade about in my underwear, and I figured a surprise tattoo would excite him and make him so horny.

ME: Did he have a thing for girls with tattoos?

RACHEL: He did. He had a couple, one on each arm for his mom and dad; they had passed away right before we met. He loved them both. But I am not talking about my haircut! Let me get back to that! So I sit in the chair and Amanda puts the cape about my neck. She tells me `Are you sure that you want a crew cut, Rachel?’ I nod that I want it, now more than anything. I don’t know what to expect and perhaps I was a little bit stupid to imagine that “shaving” it was any different than being totally bald. That prospect didn’t appeal to me then.

ME: Does it appeal to you now?

RACHEL: I guess I’d be more partial to it now that I have it so short. I couldn’t imagine it shaved down to the smooth skin.

ME: It feels fantastic!

RACHEL: Oh, so you have done it? (I nod here to her and she continues) Well, I see. I guess that’s a bit like my tattoo story. Now I am interested in seeing you shorn of all your hair. You seem interested in me wearing a tattoo. If you shave, I’ll get a tattoo. Deal?

ME: I thought you weren’t decided on that yet?

RACHEL: You helped me make up my mind. I want that tattoo.

ME: OK, then. On your buttocks?

RACHEL: My left one.yes.

ME: And I shave my head.completely smooth?

RACHEL: Yes.that’s the deal.

ME: OK. I guess that’s a deal. When do you get your tattoo?

RACHEL: After you shave. And only aft
er you do that and keep it that way for a month at least.

ME: (laughs) OK. I guess I can deal with that.

RACHEL: So, Amanda takes these electric clippers and turns them on. They sound like a hundred angry bees, know what I mean (I nod here). So I ask her what setting she’s using. `A number one’ she tells me, `that will leave your hair so ultra-short; I doubt you’ll go back.’ `Why do you think I won’t go back?’ I asked her – more curious than anything. `It’s my experience,’ she says to me, `that women who go this short tend to keep it really short ever afterwards.’ Here I thought of Becky, the receptionist girl at my usual place. `Yeah, I guess they do a little,’ I think I said. Just then she plunges the clippers over my forehead and into a forest of long blond strands with quite a few split ends. Then as she’s pushing these things over my head, I get this funny feeling, a little like nausea, but not quite so severe. I can’t really explain it too well. I see a great amount of long blond hair pulling away from my scalp and then slowly it starts to drift off my head and down onto the cape and the floor.

ME: I bet you that aroused you.

RACHEL: It did – but I also felt completely scared. What the heck was I doing? I was probably as white as a ghost and I couldn’t think properly about what Amanda was doing to me? Do you boys feel that way?

ME: (nodding a little) Sometimes, it depends on the boy and the upraising. I used to hate having my hair cut. Never that short either.

RACHEL: But you do now?

ME: Yes. I grew out of that phase. I decided after a while that getting it buzzed off was the best and started doing it. Best decision I ever made.

RACHEL: But did you feel what amounts to a bottomless pit in your stomach when you’re getting it cut.

ME: At first, yeah I did.

RACHEL: Then you know how I feel in general. I think mine was ten times worse. I thought I was going to yak all over the place. I felt so good and so bad at the same time.

ME: Yes, I went through that too.

RACHEL: I doubt it was so bad. After all, girls are expected to keep their hair long and braided, just objects of sexual desire for guys.

ME: Objects for some guys, that’s true.

RACHEL: You’re probably an exception to the rule. You’re attracted to girls with very short hair.

ME: That’s true. The shorter the better.

RACHEL: (grins) I knew that. I could sense it the first time you talked to me. I knew it was that inner self of mine that was attracting you. And I learned to see beyond the `super-male-models’ that are in magazines. They are so false. You’re real.

ME: (smiling sheepishly) Thanks.

RACHEL: It does! It brings out the total inner beauty! It’s what made me think twice about asking you out before I did this. but now that I have.

ME: Did you want to ask me out before you got your head shaved?

RACHEL: To be honest, I never gave it much thought. I didn’t see you too often. I guess I just accepted that and worked from there.

ME: I guess then your haircut worked out for us both.

RACHEL: I’ll say. Here I am thinking about getting a tattoo again. That’s saying something. I’m not thinking in the strict terms of the old me anymore. I guess I am getting a little more modern in my old age.

ME: You’re starting to question, to wonder.

RACHEL: I am! I mean, what was to me completely taboo a couple of years ago, now I am embracing and it is leading to new avenues in my life. I didn’t know it then and there, but Amanda helped change my life.

ME: (grinning) I hope you left her a nice tip!

RACHEL: Believe me, I don’t think it was enough considering how I felt!

ME: You’ll cut it again?

RACHEL: Damn right I will!

ME: Then Amanda got a lifelong customer. That’s what they want. Your old stylist lost a customer, Amanda got a new one. What more could you ask than that?

RACHEL: She might have earned more than that, had fate but decided on that.

ME: You mean you.

RACHEL: Yes, I’d have asked her out. How is that I could do that? I never looked at another woman like that before. It would repulse me, but when I sat in the chair, getting that crew cut, it liberated more than my hair. It liberated something else inside of me that I can’t explain. Something unique.

ME: That made you decide that the crew cut was the right thing to do?

RACHEL: Yeah. With each pass of those clippers over my head I thought how much nicer the air felt over my scalp. I was tempted to cry at first, but by the time she finished, I was.well my panties were sopping wet when she got done. Good thing I was wearing a skirt.

ME: You wore a skirt to your shearing?

RACHEL: (laughing) Shearing! Ha, I like that! I figured that it would make me look more like a lady. After all, if I wore jeans would it be so obvious that a woman had been liberated?

ME: I don’t suppose that it would.

RACHEL: No, I don’t either. It was a matter of taste. Despite Amanda’s plunging neckline and my knee-length skirt, two girls got liberated that day. Amanda told me she’d never given a crew cut to a girl before.

ME: I’d like to get her side of your story too.

RACHEL: Maybe you will. You have to be a good boy and maybe things will work out that way.

ME: I promise I will do my best.

RACHEL: Good! (Pauses for a moment) Now, I was sitting in the chair, receiving this buzzing, this shearing as you call it (I smile here) and as each pass goes by I get less and less sick and more and more serene. Things are getting better for me. I guess I was coming to realize that this was real – it was happening. I remember that Amanda didn’t even ask me if I was sure! She just made some small talk and then got to shearing me! But I guess I might have chickened out at the last minute if she gave me the opportunity to do so! So I watch as she runs the clippers over and over the top of my head, leaving just what you see now. It looked like a mowed lawn, all close cropped. I’d seen young kids getting crew cuts; it always looked so neat to me. I never imagined I would be getting one – not in a million years! Still, when I thought about how fast you could dry your hair and one less hassle in my day, I found that I couldn’t stop thinking about it! Don’t you find that’s true for you?

ME: Yes, I do find that’s true.

RACHEL: (taking another sip of her vodka) So I asked her if she’d given crew cuts to boys before and she said that she had. I asked her if she cut my hair the same way. `No,’ I remember her saying very clearly. `I do the back and sides first, then the top. You were my first girl’s crew cut, so I did it differently.’ `Would you ever get one yourself?’ `I’m thinking about it,’ I remember her saying. `Certainly looks really good on you so far.’ That gave me a tremendous boost to my confidence. She started running the buzzers while she was starting on the right side now. She put her hand firmly on the top of my head and held it securely. Wow, that was such an awesome feeling, like she was constraining me and liberating me at the same time. Has that happened to you?

ME: (nodding) Yes, that is a unique feeling, but it’s awesome!

RACHEL: Good – I’m not alone. That’s good. So she’s running these warm buzzing clippers over my head. I don’t know what the most exciting thing was for me at that point, the hand on my head holding me firm, the clippers chattering or the great tufts of hair falling away.

ME: Or the sight of all that short stubble left in the wake of the clippers?

RACHEL: (nods vigorously) Exactly, yes! That was part of it too. There were so many feelings surging through me then. fear, hope, excitement, wonder, gladness and sadness – all of them coursing though my veins. I just sat there speechless while Amanda did her thing. She didn’t waste time. Around the side she went, working slowly and methodically, checking over the area before going to the next one. She examined my now bristly scalp with the attention that, oh I don’t know, a doctor give
s to bacteria in a microscope?

ME: Given that this was the first time she’d buzzed a girl, can you really blame her?

RACHEL: (laughs) No, no I can’t. (We paused here and ordered another round of drinks. Then she continued with her tale.) So she shifts her hand around but she keeps it firmly planted on the top of my head. She shifts my head around like one of those videogame things, you know.

ME: A joystick?

RACHEL: Yes, that’s it. Or a stick-shift lever to a car! That’s about right. Something about that still sent shivers up and down my spine. It does even now when I think about it. Did the first time you got one do that too you?

ME: To be honest, it wasn’t the best experience. But later when I got older and tried again, it was a thrilling experience. And that’s why time and again I have gone back to it. Now it’s my trusty friend. (I smile here).

RACHEL: You’ll have to tell me all about it. It’s different for boys, they can get buzzes and be accepted but a girl gets funny looks or pity because they figure we have diseases. Too bad we are so restrictive and uppity about appearance.

ME: I agree.

RACHEL: I figured you would – you have an open mind. I’d be willing to admit I think that you and I are probably the most open-minded people here. I keep seeing people staring at me, us in general but me in particular as if I am a freak. Maybe I am – but I love who I am and I stand taller today because of what I did with Amanda in that chair. (She looks around the room a bit defiantly.) I think a lot of people could stand to learn that `lesson’.

ME: Did you feel humiliated when she was cutting your hair?

RACHEL: Well, since I asked for it, not really. I suppose that I might have felt like I was getting punished, especially with Amanda keeping her hand clamped to the top of my head. But despite all the feelings that were coursing through my veins, I don’t think humiliation was one of them.

ME: So, what happened next?

RACHEL: Well, I remember that I Amanda switched hands and clamped her right hand on my scalp. What an awesome feeling it was! I felt so on top of the world, like I was really drunk with no ill-effects of a hangover later! I didn’t know what would happen later, but it was all good for me. I saw her pulling more and more clumps of hair.that was the best word for it.clumps. It wasn’t like I don’t have a pretty full head of hair! I just never realized as it dropped off of me like it did how dense it was and how much hair I really had up there. So, she gets around to doing the left side and almost before I realize it, she turns the clippers off with a snap! I looked at her. “One crew cut, delivered,” I think she said. I smiled at her. I stood up and started to rub my head. I couldn’t believe it! It was such an odd feeling, rubbing that short, sharp hair carpeting my head. It looked so soft and luxurious in the mirror, yet it was sharp and crisp as I rubbed my hand through it. I used both hands and kept smiling. Amanda loved it! She took a digital camera and snapped some pictures of me. I just couldn’t stop rubbing it! I gave her a nice tip – I think – she seemed pleased and asked me to come back if I needed a `touch up’. Then I decided to brave the world. Lots of people looked at me weirdly but no one said anything. I even went to a lingerie shop and picked out some new stuff for the newly liberated me!

ME: That’s great! And how did your office take it when you came in?

RACHEL: That was my biggest fear. but it turned out all right. The guys who were staring at my butt and leering, thinking their lusty thoughts, they stopped looking at me. I was a freak to them now and the stares went from my butt to my head.I would rather have had them there, if they had to stare at something.

ME: And your boss? Bill is it?

RACHEL: (nods) Yes, it is Bill. He looked up and was quite surprised. “You got a little more taken off than I would have thought,” I think he said. “I hope you got a doggie bag with it.” I laughed a little and rubbed it. “It feels so good, Bill,” I think I said. He said something like `I’m sure it does’ or whatever and then he and I discussed other matters. All in all it wasn’t a terrible day for me. I survived and now most everyone I work with just says `Hi’ – though, of course, I still get stares.

ME: Does the staring at your head make you uneasy – sort of the way the staring at your butt did?

RACHEL: It does, but not in the same way, you know? I knew the butt-staring was totally sexual in nature, boys will be boys. But the head-staring, that wasn’t sexual. No predatory feelings, just uneasy feelings. Then you saw me as who I really was and asked me for this interview. That totally made my whole day when you asked me. I felt a great burden was lifted off of me.

ME: Why is that?

RACHEL: I was afraid everyone was staring at me thinking I was a complete freak. That everyone hated it. That it would get me pelted with rotten eggs or worse.

ME: Women’s short haircuts tend to be more common with lesbians, I find. Do you think that many of the guys in your office or that saw you out and about may have thought you were gay?

RACHEL: I don’t know. No one called me anything. I did seriously consider deep-kissing Amanda but we kept everything platonic.

ME: You should ask her how she felt about you – seeing you transformed and all that. It must have been quite an experience for her as well.

RACHEL: When I go back for a `touch-up’ I know I will.

There’s not much more to tell. We talked about other things after this and ended up closing the place. I felt so uplifted and happy to have gotten to know her. She was truly a special person.

We agreed that once I had it in writing, I would show her and I feverishly typed it up, wanting to see her again. Two days later my phone rang and it was Rachel, asking me how it was going. I told her I was nearly done and she laughed. “Take your time and do it well,” she said, I could hear the smile in her voice. “Want to go out tomorrow?” she then asked and my heart leapt. “Definitely,” I managed to reply and we made plans to go this time and get something to eat along with our conversation.

“I talked to Amanda this morning,” Rachel said. “I can’t wait to tell you all about that conversation!”

And I can’t wait, either.